


Change The Lock

by cambarryshortcake



Series: Keeping the Key [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9482588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cambarryshortcake/pseuds/cambarryshortcake
Summary: The first time was a mistake.The second time was… Less of a mistake.Sequel to "Keeping the Key"





	

**Author's Note:**

> hello yes it has been two years and here's that sequel thing

The first time was a mistake.

The second time was… Less of a mistake. 

They say that the third time makes something a habit, and Harry couldn’t really argue with that. He stopped counting once he hit double digits, and as the months passed it became something he didn’t even think about. He always just kind of wound up there. 

The key always fit the same, with a little resistance that would make someone think it didn’t fit before it finally slid in. Harry nudged the door open with his knee and it opened easily. Louis either wasn’t home or was finally listening to Harry and had put his shoes in his room. They were small, sure, but they were everywhere. 

Harry set his bag down on the counter and reached for one of the apples in the fruit bowl he had bought Louis for Christmas. Not that Louis ever ate fruit, which was weird. How was he so fit when he never seemed to eat fruits or vegetables? It kind of freaked him out sometimes, but he wasn’t complaining about the fit part. 

“Haz?” he heard from down the hallway.

“Yeah Lou, here.” 

He heard a door open, and the pitter-patter of feet on the hardwood floors before seeing something he rarely ever got to: sleepy Louis. He was wearing the sweater that Harry left once and now just seemed to be Louis’, and the sleeves came almost to his finger tips. His hair was swished the opposite way than it usually was, probably from however he had been sleeping, and his eyes were barely open. “Hey Hazza,” he said, voice groggy. 

And, well, Harry really couldn’t help himself. He reached for Louis, arm wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. “Hey, Boo. You sleepy?” he half whispered. 

Louis replied with a small nod and rested his forehead to Harry’s chest. “Bed though, okay? The couch is still dirty from last time.” 

Harry chuckled at the memory. They had been a little too eager, as Harry had been on a work trip for a few days, and their first two rounds didn’t even make it past the living room. “Of course baby, anything you want.” Louis only responded with a smile, but it was soon replaced with a playful smirk.

“Wait, I need a glass of water. My throat hurts.” He detached himself from Harry’s embrace and walked over to his sink. He reached up to the cupboard for the cups, up almost on his tip toes, when he suddenly began to bend at the waist. Harry watched as Louis lowered to a ninety degree angle, his elbows resting on the counter and bare arse propped up in the air. He rested his cheek on his forearm and sent Harry a sweet smile. “I’m just so tired..” 

And well, how was Harry supposed to say no to that invitation?

 

 

So that was his life. Eat, sleep, work, fuck. Sometimes all of those happened exclusively in Louis’ or his flat, since he was a nutritionist and could work from his laptop. And it was fun, really, really fun. 

Sometimes, though, he wondered. He wondered what Louis thought of their situation, as it was kind of a weird one. They weren’t technically dating, just people that fucked and slept over at each other’s places. They’d never gone out to dinner or a movie either. Sometimes Harry would make them a meal and order a movie. Did that count as a date? He didn’t want to ask, but he hoped so. 

Harry sat in his flat on his laptop, scheduling out a meal plan for an elderly diabetic man. He seemed sweet, which made Harry feel like he should make him extra healthy. Vegetables were in, but no grapefruits or oranges. A recipe for a kale and green apple smoothie (not as gross as it sounded), and a warning not to eat too many carbohydrates. He printed off the list on his favorite kind of paper, the thick kind with the green lacy border, and put it in his work folder. 

Glancing at the clock and seeing it was almost past nine, Harry decided to pay Louis a visit. He hadn’t seen him all day. Just as he was about to, though, his phone rang. 

“Hey Ni,” Harry said, phone between his ear and shoulder as he pulled his shoes on.   
“Styles, you won’t believe this,” Niall said between bated breaths. “You gotta get over here, it’s amazing!” 

Harry creased his brow as he reached for his keys. “Here as in where? Niall, what’s that thumping? Are you clubbing?”

“And soon you will be too! Take a cab to fourth and Lancaster, the place is called ‘Night Shift.’ It’s free drinks for anyone that does the karaoke and I think Liam had one too many-“   
The call cut out then, and Harry was left staring at his phone. Night Shift? Kind of a corny name for a club, but Harry liked corny. He also liked singing, and drinking. 

He quickly changed his shirt to one of his floral button ups and his shoes to a pair of boots. Once he was in the hallway he decided to knock on Louis’ door, just in case he wanted to come with. Maybe this could be their first actual date, even if it was just a club. The only problem was that, even after five minutes and two more knocks, the door stayed shut. Harry couldn’t even hear anything inside. He was probably already out, Harry thought as he headed down the stairs. Hanging out with friends, or his family, or his boyfriend, or his girlfriend. 

He really needed to stop that overthinking thing of his. 

 

“I.D.”   
Harry raised a brow at the man at the door and reached for his wallet. He knew that when he shaved he could look like a teenager, maybe. But he hadn’t shaved for a while and was unashamedly showing off his chest tattoos. He pulled out his license and handed it to the man, who eyed it suspiciously before giving it back. “Go on in.” 

Harry resisted from rolling his eyes until he walked inside. The club itself was just like any other; loud music, some lights of different colors, a bar and a small stage. He didn’t really like clubs that much. It was fun to get drunk and dance sometimes, but he usually liked to stay at home where he could do what- and who- he wanted. 

A hand clapped his back and he turned just in time to see Niall down a shot of something pinkish. His friend set the glass down on one of the nearby tables and gave Harry an ear splitting grin. “Finally! I can’t remember the last time you actually came out with us!” He then looked around as if he was trying to find someone, and pointed to a far away Liam, who was dancing with some girl. “Did you know he could sing? I had no fuckin’ idea.” 

“You didn’t hear him every morning freshman year in the showers? His beautiful voice serenaded me back to sleep most mornings,” Harry joked, and Niall laughed a little too hard.   
“You’re gonna sing, right? You’re, like, the best singer in the whole world. That includes The Beatles and The Rolling Stones.” 

Harry put a hand to his heart, a look of mock affection crossing his face. “That is so sweet of you to say, my drunken friend.” 

Harry decided that yes, he would sing, and started walking around to look for a sign up. He wandered through the dance floor to find a DJ set up next to the stage, and signed his name on the list. It asked for the song as well, and he wrote down ‘Clouds’ by… He couldn’t remember the artist, but he liked the song. It was only after he wrote it down that the person currently on stage ended, and the man at the stand gestured for Harry to go up on stage. 

He climbed the steps awkwardly. He wasn’t really used to singing in front of so many people. He liked his voice, sure, but to sing in front of a bunch of drunk idiots was something different than his high school talent show. Harry stepped to the mic and took it into his hand, eyes squinted from the bright light on him. “Hi,” he said, then repeated it when Niall signaled that he couldn’t hear him. “I’ve never done this before, so please don't judge me.” This earned him a few chuckles, which was enough to give him a little confidence. 

The beginning chords of the song started up, and Harry brought the mic to his lips. “I know you said you don’t like it complicated, that you were tryin' to keep it simple, but love is never ever simple, no.” Okay, he could do this. He knew this song like the back of his hand, and it was making people dance. 

The chorus came soon enough, and Harry began bouncing on his heels with adrenaline. “Here we go again, another go round for all my friends, another non stop will it ever end.” This was good. This was great even. What would he order with his free drink? He would need to ask Niall what the pink thing was. “We’re never comin’ back down, we’re lookin’ down on the clouds!” He belted out that last note, his favorite part in the entire song, and for a split second he felt like he was in ecstasy. 

Until he looked down at the dance floor. 

There, not very far away from him, was a head of shaggy, soft brown hair and a pair of beautiful blue eyes. They were attached to a boy who was moving so rhythmically that it almost looked choreographed, if it wasn’t for the other boy grinding behind him. The boy Harry didn’t recognize had both of his hands on Louis’ hip, holding him tight, too tight. Louis, though, was smiling. He was smiling the smile that he gave when he had a trick up his sleeve, the smile that Harry had gotten just before Louis had pulled out the handcuffs for the first time. The smile that he saw the first (and last) time Louis had volunteered to make dinner because he never liked to cook. Louis couldn’t really cook. He liked to try sometimes, but most nights Harry did the cooking or Louis did the ordering in. 

Until now, he thought it was his ‘Harry smile.’ 

Niall noticed that Harry wasn’t singing like he had been before, more just repeating the words, and followed Harry’s eyes across the floor. He creased his brow when he saw Harry was just staring at a guy, and did his best to wave and make eye contact with his friend. It was to no avail. 

The song ended too slowly and Harry all but ran down the steps to Niall. 

“Who’s that?” Niall asked, gesturing with his thumb. 

“Louis. That’s Louis.” 

Niall raised a brow. “THE Louis?” 

“Yeah.” 

Niall whistled low and started pulling Harry in the opposite direction. “Shit. That sucks, H. From what you said I thought he liked you.” 

Harry tried not to wince at his words and kept walking toward the bar. “Yeah, so did I.” He held up his hand to call the bartender, a young guy who looked to be from some Middle Eastern country. “Tequila,” he said, and he didn’t miss how the boy’s hazel eyes scanned him over before getting his drink. 

The bartender set the shot down in front of Harry and leant down on his elbows on the counter. “Tequila?” he asked. “That’s what you drink when you’re sad. You sad, beautiful?” 

Harry couldn’t help the scoff that left his lips as he tipped the glass back. He gulped down the liquid quickly before hitting it back on the counter. “Sad, not really. Disappointed I guess? You know when you expect something, but then something else happens instead?” 

The man nodded and took the glass away. “Yeah, I get what you mean.” He set the glass in the sink behind him before giving Harry a small grin. “I can promise I wouldn’t disappoint.” 

Harry let out a soft laugh and looked down at his hands, fingers playing with his many rings. He was used to being hit on, by boys and girls alike, so this was nothing new. Still, though, he felt different than before. Things were different now. He didn’t have the urge to completely shut them down, like he did when he thought Louis was interested in him, but he wasn’t sure about saying yes. Would Louis see? Did he want Louis to see? 

Kinda.

Harry let his eyes come up to the man’s face and gave a grin. “And what’s your name, angel? I’m Harry.” 

“Zayn. I get off in a few, do you want to get a drink? Preferably somewhere I don’t work.” 

Harry, either from the alcohol or the heartbreak, decided to take it a step further. “I have a great wine at my place, red.”

Zayn didn’t seem to mind how forward Harry was being, and instead smiled. “That sounds great. Just a few more minutes and I’ll come out and meet you.” With that he turned to go through the door behind the bar, and Harry locked eyes with Niall across the floor. The blond raised a brow, and Harry only shrugged. He turned to head to the door and saw Louis one more time, eyes closed and a blissful smile over his face, and suddenly he didn’t feel so bad when Zayn placed a hand on his back and led him outside. 

 

Harry woke in the morning with a slight headache and a body over his chest. A light smile came over his lips as he pulled the body closer, having gotten used to this position lately, and turned his head to bury his nose in the feather light hair beside him. “Want a morning rim?” he asked scratchily, voice still rough from sleep.

He heard a hum of agreement, but it was different. Deeper than usual. It was then that Harry registered the differences in this body; the rough stubble, sharp jaw. Harry sat up, palms rubbing sleep from his eyes, and nearly jumped when he saw a head of black hair and arms littered with colorful tattoos. The events of the night before started to flash back and he almost wished he had forgotten. 

Zayn poked Harry’s collarbone, half of his face smushed in a pillow and his arse propped in the air. “Hey, you can’t just leave me hanging like that, beautiful.” 

Harry kept from sighing long enough to realize that he had indeed proposed sex, and he wasn’t one to go back on his word. 

 

“Call any time,” Zayn said as he stepped out of Harry’s flat, jacket in hand. He turned around just quick enough to catch Harry off guard, and placed a quick peck on his lips. “See ya, Harry.” 

Harry stepped out to make sure that Zayn found his way to the elevator when he saw the door beside his was open as well. Taking another half step forward, Harry saw Louis in his doorway, cup of coffee in his hand and straight line on his lips. 

It took Louis a moment to see Harry. “Looks like you had a busy night,” he said, over enunciating each word before taking a sip of his coffee. 

Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes at that. “Yeah, bet you did too.” He didn’t wait for a response before stepping back into his flat and shutting the door. 

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

Harry leaned back from the bar to see Niall, arms crossed over his chest, standing beside him. He didn’t look very happy, Harry thought. Maybe a drink would help. 

“Hey, Ni!” he said happily. “Come sit, have a drink. This place has great cocktails, and they put little plastic swords in them.” Niall moved to sit on Harry’s right, but he quickly stopped him. “No, not there. That’s where… Uh, Michelle, that’s where Michelle’s sitting. She’s in the bathroom.” 

Niall gave Harry a look he couldn’t figure out and sat down on his left instead. “Michelle? You’re back to fucking girls?” 

Harry shrugged and called for the bartender to get him another of whatever he was drinking. “Girls are nice. They have soft hair, and Michelle has a great ass.” 

“So does Louis.” 

Harry felt his heart ping at the name, one he hadn’t heard in a few weeks. He didn’t even like thinking about him anymore; it only made him feel more pathetic. “Who is that again?” he grumbled. 

Niall nudged Harry with his elbow and shook his head when the bartender asked if he wanted a drink. “Louis, you know, that bloke you were obsessed with for weeks? The one that seemed to me to be really fuckin’ into you-“ 

“He wasn’t,” Harry said sharply. “He wasn’t and you saw it as clear as I did. If he was, he wouldn’t have danced like that with - with someone else. I even went to invite him to come with us, Ni, but he was already here. Already plastered onto some fuckboy.” 

“And they fucked?” 

Harry adjusted a little in his seat, wiggling around to get comfortable. “I don’t know, probably.” 

“You don’t even know if he really slept with that guy?” Niall asked incredulously. 

“I have a feeling,” Harry said half-assedly. “I didn’t, like, hear them or anything, but Louis can be quiet when he wants to be.” 

Niall rolled his eyes and pushed Harry’s shoulder. “You probably didn’t hear anything because A) you were fucking that bartender and B) he wasn’t having sex. If anything, he might have heard you two. Jesus, H, you really like to jump to conclusions.” 

“I also jumped to the conclusion that he liked me, Ni. I’m not very perceptive.” 

Harry felt a sudden tap on his shoulder, quick and irritated, and turned to see an expectant looking Michelle. Her hair had been brushed, probably when she was in the bathroom, and her makeup had been touched up. She side eyed Niall for a second before looking back. “Ready to go?” 

“Uh..” Harry looked between Niall and Michelle for a moment before reaching down and patting his own thigh three times with his finger. Niall’s eyes followed and after looking back with confusion, realization dawned on his face. He quickly responded and jumped in. “Actually I came to get him.. His sister’s in labor! C’mon H, we gotta go!” He grabbed Harry’s wrist and pulled roughly, yanking him out of his seat and towards the door. 

Once they were a good distance away, Niall dropped Harry’s wrist and put his hands over his chest. “Seriously, the taps? We haven’t used that cop-out since high school, when I was on that awful date with Shyanne French.”

“She was awful, wasn’t she?” 

“Don’t change the subject, Styles.” 

Harry sighed. “I don’t know, I just…” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You were right, okay? I don’t know if he actually had sex with that guy, but what if it doesn’t matter? What if he   
doesn’t like me anyway?” 

“You can’t just be scared forever.” Niall clapped Harry on the back and kept walking down the pavement. “If he says no, he’s not worth the tears or the money you’re spending on drinks. Seriously, aren’t you bankrupt by now?” 

“Only a little.” 

So they walked. Neither of them bothered to hail a cab, so they ended up just walking down the street towards Harry’s apartment. It wasn’t a very long walk, thank God he chose to live in the middle of the city. It was late, Harry thought. Before everything, he was never out this late. Especially not on a regular basis like lately. 

Niall left him at the front door, complaining that he had to get up early for work the next day, so Harry waved him off and said goodbye. He walked through the empty lobby of his apartment building. The only other person that was still there was the receptionist, and she just gave him an odd look before turning away. 

The elevator was as empty as the lobby, and as it dropped him off on his floor he heard the standard music stop playing. It was that late, he thought, even the elevator was giving up for the night. 

As he walked past the rows of doors and mats, he decided in a buzzed bad-decision kind of moment to knock on Louis’ door. What could it hurt, really? 

He waited. And waited. And then waited a little more, but there was still no answer. He tried knocking again, but as he brought his fist up the door swung open to reveal a very tired looking Louis. He was always cute when he was tired, Harry thought. He also looked soft, like the harshness of the day hadn’t ruined his mood yet. He was also in only a t-shirt and pants, something Harry tried to ignore. 

“What do you want?” Louis asked in that middle-of-the-night groggy voice. He didn’t sound pleased either. 

“I came to talk.”

“Look at that, the frog can speak.” 

“I’m serious.” 

Louis sighed and ran his hand over his face, as if he was trying to wipe the sleep from himself. It must’ve worked a little, because he stepped back enough to let Harry inside, and he gladly took the invitation.

Harry sat down on one of the barstools and set his chin in his hand. Louis moved to stand on the other side of the little kitchen island and leaned back against the counter. They stared at each other for a moment before Louis spoke. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I was a douche. Like, a huge, colossal twat. Have been for the past few weeks, and I’m sorry.” 

Louis nodded, like he was waiting for Harry to continue. 

“And I thought you didn’t like me- still think that, actually- so I kind of went off the deep end and became a nympho,” Harry said, trying to find the right way to phrase it. “I just.. I really like you, Lou, and seeing you dance with that guy-”

“Guy? What guy?” Louis said, sounded flabbergasted. 

Harry tilted his head to the side. “We were at some club together, but I don’t think you saw me. I was doing the karaoke and I saw you and some guy dancing, so I…” 

“You fucked that black haired bloke,” Louis finished. “Jesus Harry, why didn’t you just come talk to me?” 

“You seemed to be having a lot of fun.” 

Louis sighed. “I like to dance Harry, that’s not a crime. And… We never said what we were. I didn’t know that I wasn’t allowed to dance because we never talked about it.” 

He was right. Harry knew he was right because Louis was always right. They never actually talked about their relationship, they just were always kind of together. Harry hated being wrong, but sometimes he just had to suck it up. 

“Yeah. Well.” Harry stood from the stool and put his hands in his pockets. “I told you how I feel, so I’m just gonna go.” He walked over to the door and turned the handle. 

“Harry.” He felt a hand on his arm, and paused. “Harry, stop. Just.. Stay, okay?” 

The word ‘no’ wasn’t registering in Harry’s mind at the moment, so inside he went. 

God he missed this apartment. The whole placed smelled like Louis, like this stupid tea and his fabric softener and his shampoo. Harry walked over to the couch as Louis approached the cabinets. He opened one, and pulled out a coffee mug. “You need to sober up,” he said as he poured him a cup. “You seem like you’ve been having a lot of hangovers lately, anyway.” 

He wasn’t wrong. Harry gratefully took the mug as Louis came to sit next to him, and held it close to his chest. The warmth was seeping through his shirt and to his chest, and it felt cozy. He always felt cozy here. As he brought the drink to his lips, he raised an eyebrow. “I see the bananas I brought over went bad,” he said, gesturing to the bowl on the kitchen counter. 

“You’re the only one that eats them, moron, of course they’ve gone bad.” Louis crossed one leg over the other and god damn he was just teasing at this point. His legs were completely bare besides the pants, and Harry was having a hard time not staring. 

Harry eyed the boy from the corner of his eye, and suddenly placed his cup down. “Why are you drinking coffee at night anyway? Shouldn’t it be opposite?” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “I’ve had non stop work from my boss lately, mostly organizing files and putting things together. If you had bothered talking to me for the past two weeks, you would have known.” 

Harry winced at Louis’ acidic tone, but he had nothing to say in his defense. The only reason this happened was because he’d assumed too much, and ended up hurting them both. “So, you didn’t bring that guy home? The one you were dancing with?” he asked as he reached for his mug. 

“Haz, I don’t even remember what he looked like. I told you before, I just like to dance. I’ve been doing it forever. No, I didn’t sleep with him.” 

“Oh.” 

They lulled into silence again, both staring at the wall in front of them and anywhere but each other. Honestly, Harry wasn’t sure what to say. He had fucked up, and was admittedly still a little drunk. “M’sorry, Lou.” 

Louis clenched his jaw and turned his head to the side. “There’s. There’s no reason for you to be sorry, Harry. We’re not dating. You can fuck other people and ignore me all you want.” 

“No, Lou, that’s not what I meant.” He leaned his head back a little, and let it hit the wall behind them. “I don’t want to sleep with anyone, I only did that because I thought you were. Christ, boo, I knocked on your door that night because I wanted to ask you to come with, to go to a club with you and dance and sing with you.” 

“What?” 

“I wanted to ask you on a date, Louis.” 

This shuts Louis up. The tips of his ears began to turn red, as did the tip of his nose. “A date?”

Harry shrugs a little. “I mean, I know it wouldn’t have been the ideal date, not like dinner or anything, but I thought it would be something.” He turned his head and gave Louis a soft look. “I like you, Louis. Quite a lot, it seems.”

Louis all but slammed down his coffee mug onto the coffee table in front of him. “You seem to have a funny way of showing it, Styles. What about tall, tattooed, and handsome? Maybe he wants to go to a club with you.” 

Each word sent a dagger through Harry’s chest, and he felt himself visibly deflate. Louis had every right to be angry, and he knew that, but he didn’t expect him to be that mad. “Louis, I-I’m sorry, I don’t…” He wiped his sleeve against his nose and moved to stand up. “I’m just gonna go, yeah?” 

“I’m not finished.” The stern tone of Louis’ voice made Harry freeze, and he looked back at the man. “Sit down, please. Let me finish.” 

Once he was back down, Louis cleared his throat. “You’re an idiot, but you’re right. That would’ve been a shitty date. Knowing you, I would be expecting a couple of daisies, some up and coming restaurant, and you trying to cuddle in a movie.” Harry raised an eyebrow at that, confusion still written across his face, and Louis sighed. “So, if you’re going to ask me out and you want me to say yes, you’re going to have to step up your game.”

It takes a few moments of silence for what Louis is saying to sink in. Harry stared at the other boy's’ face, his cheeks pink but his face stern. 

Harry cleared his throat, and leaned in a little closer. “Louis, would.. Would you like to go to dinner with me?”

Louis’ face turned from pink to bright red, and he nodded quickly as his eyes got misty. 

“What? Why are you crying?” Harry asked, panic rising in his voice. 

Louis punched Harry’s arm, hard enough to hurt but not as hard as Harry knows he can hit. “I’m not crying. I just… I thought you didn’t like me,” he said quietly. None of his tears spilled over, but his eyes stayed wet. “I know we never said what we were, but I saw that guy leave your place, and I-” 

“Louis.” 

Louis turned just in time for Harry’s lips to meet his in a messy kiss. His small hands reached up to tangle in Harry’s messy curls, those curls he’d missed for weeks, to pull him closer. The kiss became fast and hot, tongues and teeth and lips. Harry’s hands moved from Louis’ hips to his thighs, his favorite part about him, Jesus. 

“Harry,” Louis moaned between kisses, and that was it, really. 

Harry secured his large hands under Louis’ thighs, and pulled the boy into his lap. Their lips disconnected in the jostling, and Louis only had time to give him a raised eyebrow before Harry was standing, Louis coming up with him. He instinctively put his arms around Harry’s neck, afraid to fall, but realized all too late that moving closer meant his cock rubbing against Harry’s toned stomach. He gasped, but it was quickly swallowed by Harry’s lips. 

Harry carefully walked around the coffee table and to the nearest wall, where he pushed Louis up against his back. “Look at you, Lou,” he whispered, his mouth now ghosting down on Louis’ jaw. “You’re gagging for it, aren’t you?” 

Louis tossed his head back, hitting the wall with a thump. He kept his lips in a straight line, too much pride to give in, but when Harry started working on a lovebite near his collarbone, he melted. “Yes, yes, fuck.” He tried to roll his hips forward, attempting to get some sort of friction on his aching cock, but Harry wouldn’t let him move. Instead, the taller man answered him with a grin. 

“How about a bed, Lou? Wouldn’t that be more comfortable?” 

Louis just shook his head, almost before he was done talking. “No, no just- Now, please. I missed you so much Haz.” 

Harry felt his heart swell at that, and hid it under a sultry smirk. “Okay baby, no need to beg.” After a second, he pushed his hips forward, rubbing the fabric of his jeans against Louis’ cock and making the boy cry out. “Actually, scratch that. I like when you beg.” 

Louis took in a hissing breath and mustered a weak glare. “Harry, I swear to God, if you don’t do something-” 

Harry used that moment to let go of one of Louis’ legs, trusting the boy would keep it wrapped around him, and pushed two fingers into Louis’ mouth. He was met with a grunt of annoyance, followed by a wet tongue coating the digits. Louis’ eyes went hooded and jaw lax, and Harry knew he liked this. He liked when things got a little rough. 

Louis mimicked the way he sucked Harry’s cock, his cheeks hollowed and eyes looking up at him, big and blue. His tongue moved around and between Harry’s fingers, coating them thoroughly, and Harry pulled them out. 

Louis’ hands moved to pull down his pants, sure of what was coming next. It was a little awkward, because they couldn’t go down far, but he hiked up the leg Harry wasn’t holding and slipped it through so they were just around the one thigh. As soon as he was back as he was, Harry nudged the tip of his pointer finger in his hole. 

“Fuck- Harry, that’s-” 

Harry all but cooed at him, finger pushing in slowly. “You’re so tight, boo. Feels like you haven’t even touched yourself here since we fucked last.” Louis panted harshly against his jaw, and Harry took his silence as confirmation. 

As Harry wiggled his finger inside, Louis’ hands scrambled down to clutch at Harry’s shirt. “H-Harry,” he moaned, well past the point of horny and now at full on desparate. It was true, he hadn’t fingered himself since Harry had last, but that was because nothing felt like Harry. His knowing fingers knew just how to drive Louis crazy, and doing it himself was never the same. 

Harry pushed another finger in alongside the first, and Louis tensed up. It felt good, it felt so good that his head was spinning and he felt like he was on fire, but he felt selfish. He couldn’t touch Harry like this, after all. “Haz, please,” he pleaded, nails digging into his chest. “

“Please what?” Harry asked with a hard thrust of his fingers. 

“Fuck me, please, I want it so much, Haz.” 

Harry hastily removed his fingers from Louis, making the boy whine, and reached to undo his zip. Louis sat in anticipation, back sticking to the wall from his sweat, and jerked when he felt Harry’s cock against his leg, hard and hot. 

He tried his best to push down on it, but with no leverage he couldn’t do much. Harry could, though, and took some pity on him. He used his hand to guide his cock back, and rubbed the tip against Louis’ loosened hole. 

Louis gasped, voice stuck in his throat, as Harry started to push down, pulling Louis down at the same time. They met in the middle, and Louis moved his arms to clutch around Harry’s neck to keep him grounded. Harry wasted no time slamming into him; his hands tight on Louis’ waist, pulling him off and back onto his cock as deep as it could go. 

“O-oh,” Louis let out in a stuttered moan. His mind was cloudy, eyes becoming wet as he was pounded into by Harry’s cock after weeks of nothing. His voice wouldn’t stay down, cry after cry tumbling from his lips as his prostate was assaulted. 

“Lou,” Harry breathed, and Louis forced himself to look at Harry’s face. Mistake. Harry’s face was flushed, bottom lip bitten and eyes half lidded. Sweat ran down his temple, and Louis closed his eyes as stars danced across his vision. 

“I’m gonna cum,” he said suddenly, heat pooling in his stomach quickly. “Oh my god, Harry, I’m” 

“Yeah, cum for me Lou, I wanna see that so bad,” Harry rasped out, his own thrusts becoming jerky. 

Cum spurted from Louis’ untouched cock, white landing on his and Harry’s shirts as he climaxed. He clung close to Harry as he twitched through his orgasm, and Harry bit roughly on Louis’ neck as he buried himself deep, cumming inside. 

Both trying to regain their breath, Harry gently let Louis back down on his feet. He was grateful to be back on the ground, but felt his knees start to bend and held on to Harry’s arm tight. All he could manage was a glare upwards, which just made Harry laugh. 

After a moment of silence, Harry spoke up. “So, I’ll pick you up around seven tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Don’t forget the daisies.”


End file.
